All in a Day's Frustration
by jayer
Summary: Danny comes back from sick leave to end up in a serial killer case. When the evidence gets him no where, Mac turns up with someone who could lend a hand.
1. Called to the scene

The ringing of the phone echoed around the tiny apartment.

Danny rolled over and flipped on the bedside light. He stumbled out of bed and across the room to the kitchenette, guided by the ringing of his cell.

He grabbed the phone, glancing at the readout and flipped it open. "Hey, Mac."

"Danny. Sorry to wake you up."

"It's okay."

"How's the cold?"

"Fine. Thanks for the couple of days off."

"No problem. Can't have you sick and miserable at work. You complain too much."

"Ha, Ha."

"Listen Danny, I know I told you to rest up the whole weekend, but I need you at work if you're up to it."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really."

"Good. I'll send Hawkes to pick you up. Flack will meet you at the scene."

"I'll be ready." Danny clicked off the phone and headed for the shower.


	2. A bloody mess

"Messer." Flack called out as they got out of the car.

"What have we got?"

"Something nasty." Flack grimaced. "Try not to puke on the body, okay."

"A little cold and everyone takes pot shots."

"Actually I was thinking about the body. The responding officers both lost it when they saw it."

"Well if it's that bad, Hawkes will love it. He goes for gory."

Flack led the two men past the tape and into the vacant lot. "Early morning jogger found it. Poor guy was taking a short cut and literally stumbles over this."

Flack pointed to the body. For a moment, Danny wasn't sure he wouldn't vomit. The body was undressed. There was blood everywhere. And worse, almost all of the skin had been removed from the torso, arms and legs.

"Well I can give you a time of death range." Hawkes jumped right in. "Has to have been since last night."

"Why do you say that, Doc?"

"Blood appears fresh and no dogs or animals have gotten to it." Hawkes explained. "In fact, given the lack of postmortem damage, I'd say the body couldn't have been dumped more than an hour or two before discovery."

"Almost like the killer doesn't care if the body was found." Flack suggested.

Danny looked up from his camera. "Exactly like that."

"Hey Danny." Hawkes waved him closer to the body. "Check this out." He pointed to the gapping wound down the torso. "What do you make of that?"

Danny shock his head. "We got a serious sicko on our hands."

"How sick?"

"Sick enough that this might not be the first time." Hawkes replied grimly.

"Or the last." Danny added.

The words hung between the three men. None of them wanted to say it outloud but the fear was palatable. They might have a serial killer on their hands.


	3. The Devil is in the details

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"Afternoon, Doc." Danny nodded at the M.E.

"And who is this?" Flack smiled at the doctor, a fresh faced red head with the classic lilting voice of the Irish bred.

The doctor stuck out her hand. "We haven't met. Dr Shannon Day. And you are?"

"Don Flack, Homicide." Flack grinned broadly as he shook the young woman's hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Danny grabbed Flack's arm as he moved to follow the doctor to the autopsy table where Hawkes was already waiting. "Forget it, man."

"Forget what?"

"Trying. She won't bite."

"Just because she didn't succumb to your charms only means she has taste."

"She doesn't bat for our team."

Flack looked at him perplexed.

"Monroe might have some luck, but neither of us will." Danny waited for the information to sink in. Then he turned and headed for the body. "So what are we dealing with, Shan."

"A real mess." Shannon pulled back the sheet. "The only plus is that I had little actual work to do to get to the good stuff. Rather took out the fun.

"Our victim is male, I would guess early to mid 20s. He is in fairly good shape considering."

"Considering what?" Flack asked hesistantly.

"Considering that someone cut out both eyes, his liver, kidneys, heart and then flayed him." Hawkes piped up.

"A bit much don't you think?"

"Perhaps. Then again, if you really are dealing with a psychopathic serial killer, perhaps it's not quite enough."

"Let's stick with what we know." Danny grimaced.

"Something wrong, Detective." Shannon asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Headache. And the more I think about psychopaths and serial killers the worse it gets."

"There's some aspirin in the first aid kit. Help yourself."

"Thanks. Keep going. I can listen and medicate at the same time." Danny poured two pills into his hand and swallowed them dry.

"The cuts are informed and non hesistating."

"So this guy knew what he was doing?"

"Exactly, Detective Flack."

"We looking for a doctor?"

"Not necessarily. Anyone can learn out to remove the organs, especially when they aren't worrying about killing the patient."

"And the tool?"

"Something very sharp. But not necessarily a scalpel. And likely two different blades. One for the internal work and one for the skin."

"Can we tell if he was dead or alive when our suspect starting cutting."

"No way to know exactly, but based on the amount of blood loss, I would have to say alive."

"That is bent."

"Yes, Danny." Shannon frowned. "It is."

"What about trace?"

"Nothing so far. I'm going to go in again and go over the body with a fine tooth comb. In the meantime, I've triple photographed the body focusing on the cut marks. I've sent samples to DNA and Tox. And fingerprints as well as dentals have gone to ID."

"Beautiful, Shannon." Danny smiled at her. "Syd better be careful. He might come back from his vacation and find out the temp has stolen his job."

"Why, Detective Messer. You do know how to flatter a girl." Shannon laughed.

"We may be back with questions."

"I'll be waiting."


	4. Stalled

"How's it going?" Stella set a bag down on the table.

"Slow. I got nothing so far." Danny rubbed his eyes and popped his glasses back down on his nose. "What's in the bag?"

"Chicken Noodle Soup. For you."

"Stella, I'm fine."

"Well you look like you're about to drop. " Stella's pager started beeping. She took a quick glance and grimaced. "I have to go. Eat the soup, okay."

"Okay. I'll eat the soup, Mom."

"Don't ever call me Mom."


	5. A familiar sight

"I once had to process a Black Bear attack." Lindsay said, changing out her camera. "But this is nasty."

"And a match for another homicide day before yesterday." Flack said, walking under the tape. "At least from here."

"So what are we looking at?" Stella asked as she carefully scraped up a blood sample.

"If it is a match, victim will be missing several organs -- heart, kidneys, liver -- along with her eyes and skin."

"Charming." Lindsay shook her head. "At least the bear was just hungry. This is sick."

"Danny's body came up blank." Stella stood, stretching. "Let's reprocess. Maybe we'll get lucky and find something to clear both cases."


	6. Many questions, only one answered

"Yes sir." Mac nodded subconsciously as he listened. "I understand. It's already our top priority. Of course."

Mac hung up the phone with a sigh. He hated the media. Media created pressure, pressure led to haste, haste led to mistakes. And as much as he hated the media, he abhorred mistakes. Mistakes led to all kinds of problems. Problems that were harder to clean up later.

Stella nudged the office door open. "You hungry? I thought we could grab a bite to eat while my prints were running."

"Where is everyone?"

"In the lab. Why?" Stella followed Mac down the hall to the elevator. "Mac, what's up?"

"The chief called."

"Oh." Stella grimaced. The Chief only got involved if it was something big. Big like their case was about to be the evening news.

The lab was buzzing with activity when Mac and Stella walked in.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Mac called out in the voice of authority tone he hated using. The activity stopped and everyone turned to listen. "I have just been informed that the media knows about the murders and they are going to publish the information."

"What's there to publish?"

"I believe their version is that New York City is being victimized by a deranged serial killer who is cutting up his victims and eating them." Mac said grimly.

"You forgot the punchline." Danny jumped in. "NYPD has no clue about the identity of this killer or who his next dinner will be."

"Something like that."

"Brilliant."

"I have assured The Chief that these killings are top priority. He wants on the hour updates." Mac looked around the tables. "Please tell me I'm going to have something to tell him in an hour."

"I wish." Danny sighed.

Mac grabbed a stool. "Then let's talk it out. What we know, what we don't know. Everything." Stella handed him a pad of paper and a pen.

"We know that both murders happened in an unknown location and were dumped where they were found." Lindsay started. "We can tell that from the lack of blood at the crime scenes."

"Good." Mac wrote a couple of notes. "Next."

"We know that the killer knew what he or she was doing when he removed the organs." Sheldon chimed in. "Lack of hesitation in the cutting. And he or she used something very sharp. No tool marks. Also, we know from the lack of lividity bruising that the victims bleed out a lot, which suggests that they were alive when the organs were removed."

"Okay. What about trace?"

"Nada, zip, zilch. Nothing on either body came from a place that wasn't the dump site. Not a hair, a fiber, a speck of dirt. And not even a smudged partial on the bodies."

"Which suggests that they were wrapped in something that the killer took away."

"A large piece of plastic maybe."

"Perhaps." Mac nodded to Lindsay. "Identity of the victims."

"We got fingerprints." Stella pulled copies out of her file folder and slide them to Mac. Danny followed with his. "But no hits in AFIS. And no hits in CODIS on their DNA."

Mac sighed. They had nothing. His team had been working for almost two days with nothing. No wonder the media was planning to tear them apart. He wanted to say something encouraging. He knew they needed it. But how could he say anything when their trouble was that they had nothing to work with. They were scientists without any science. Hobbled. He could feel the strain around the table. It was so heavy it was pressing down on all of them.

"Dammit." Danny hissed.

"Danny?"

"This blows, Mac. Seriously blows." Danny voiced the feeling they were all having. "We got the media spreading stories that are for once more true than untrue but still make us look bad. We got nothing on who this freak is. And we got two bodies downstairs we can't even notify the next of kin cause we got no clue who they are."

"If you'd answer your phone." A voice from the door startled them.

Danny's hand reached for his phone which was missing. "Must have left it in my bag."

"Do you have something Tyler?" Mac reached out for the folder the tech was carrying.

"Lucas Clark." Tyler said with a slight grin. "From Montreal. He's a student at Chelsea. Good kid. Always calls home on Sundays. No matter what he's doing. Mom's a bit of a worrier"

"Moms can be like that."

"When he didn't call last night, Mom panicked. Filed a missing person's with the local police. Precinct 12 over by the campus got it this morning. They checked the school. No one has seen Lucas since Friday's classes."

"So why didn't they call the police?"

"Lucas was known for taking spontaneous trips home."

"They just figured he was gone for the weekend."

"P 12 sent us a copy of the report per our request for all missing persons fitting the loose descrip of the victims."

"Fingerprint match."

Tyler nodded. "Dentals are on the way."

"Good. We'll wait to inform the family until we are certain. Good work, Tyler."

"Anytime."

Mac scooped up the case files. "There's nothing we can do without evidence. Keep working on identifying the other victim."

"What about the media?"

"We had two bodies in less than 12 hours and nothing since then. If this really was a serial killer, we would have likely found more by now."

"So we just add those to your pile and hope it was something personal." Danny asked.

"I'm afraid so."


	7. When things get messy

Tyler knocked on the partially open office door. "Yo, Messer. They're here."

"Sid know?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks Man."

Danny ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his jacket as he walked to the elevator. There were few tasks in his job he disliked, but visual id's by a victim's family were top of the list. Especially when the vic was a kid. It was always messy.

A older couple, mid 50s he guessed, was waiting in the anteroom.

"Mr and Mrs Clark. I'm Detective Messer." Danny gently waved them towards the viewing window. The curtains were still closed but Danny knew that on the other side was the body of their son, carefully covered so only the face was showing. No need for them to see how he died. It wouldn't make losing their son any easier.

"What do we do?" Lucas' mother asked softly.

"When you're ready, just push the button and the curtains will open." Danny explained, pointing to the switch. "Take your time."

He stepped to the side to give them room. He always felt like an invader during these moments. And he'd be the first to admit that being there made things personal. It was easier when he could just focus on the evidence, not think about the person connected to the blood, the photos, the crime.

An eternity seemed to pass before the boy's father reached up and pushed the button. Danny kept his focus on the curtains as they opened.

He didn't need to ask the question. The sobbing gave him his answer. Sobbing which became crying which became yelling. Yelling and hitting and flailing. Danny felt a sting as his cheek was gashed. He was as gentle as he could be, grabbing Mrs Clark, pinning her arms down to avoid getting hit again. Eventually she gave in and crumpled to the ground. He stepped back and let the grieving parents have their moment.

He hated when it got messy.


	8. In pursuit of another answer

"Hey Danny." The voice echoed against the lockers.

"Yeah Montana." Danny yelled back, scrubbing shampoo through his hair.

"Missing persons got three possible hits on my Jane Doe. Mac wants me to check them out. I thought you might want to come with me. See if anything looks or sounds familiar."

"Sure. I could handle getting out of here." Danny rinsed out his hair and turned off the shower. "Getting nowhere is starting to really depress me."

Danny wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the locker room.

"Oh." Lindsay blushed. "I'll be waiting. Outside."

Danny nodded, laughing to himself. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd never seen a guy naked. But he did know better. He'd overheard Lindsay, Stella and the new girl from Trace talking about some hot model whose picture was all over downtown. The guy was dressed in nothing but his underwear and apparently the consensus was that he was 'totally hot'. Much to his surprise, Lindsey popped off some comment that she was dating a guy that was even hotter. Even Danny's ears had been burning to hear her comments about his prowess between the sheets. He didn't think Montana was that kind of girl. She seemed so innocent.

Danny quickly dressed, hooking his badge and gun back on his waist. He grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he walked down the hall. Lindsay was waiting in the lab, a folder on the table in front of her.

"Feeling better?"

Danny shrugged. "I need sleep and food for that. But I feel human."

"I can't do anything about the sleep, but I'll treat you to lunch."

"I'm not saying no." Danny followed her to the garage.

Lindsay held out the keys.

"So that's it." Danny teased. "You didn't want to drive."

"New York drivers are crazy. There's like two sets of rules. The official ones and the ones folks follow but no one talks about. And they change every two blocks."

"We aren't known for patience." Danny slid behind the wheel. "Between that and the price of gas, a guy is stupid not to take mass trans."

Two hours later, they were sitting in a corner deli with hot roast beef sandwiches, coffee and no leads.

"So what happens now?" Lindsay broke the silence.

"You mean with the case?"

Lindsay nodded.

"It becomes another file on Mac's desk." Danny said glumly. "Along with a rape, two murders and a non-custodial kidnapping of a pair of six year old twin girls. If we're lucky, this freak is done with whatever he's doing and in four or five years we'll get lucky and find out he's been dead for two years."

"This job--" Lindsay was stopped by the ringing of her phone. "Monroe." She listened for a moment.

"What's up, Montana?"

"We have another lead."


	9. Time to move on

"Knock, Knock." Danny leaned into the office. Mac was standing by the window, staring out in the general direction of the Empire State Building. It was his 'thinking' pose. "Yo, Mac."

Mac started. "Danny. I heard you found a name for our Jane Doe."

"Lisa Stansfield. She's a real estate broker from the Village. DMV records gave us an address."

"Anything?"

"Nothing. Place was a little dusty but there were no signs of forced entry, attack." Danny said, trying to keep his voice semi-hopeful.

"That's unfortunate." Mac sighed.

"I'm gonna check her financials, past addresses. See if I can find a connection to the Clarks."

Mac nodded. "If nothing comes up--"

"I know, Mac. Just give me a couple of days." Danny half begged. "You weren't there with this kid's parents. His mother was a wreck."

"I can give you 48 hours. And I'll talk to the parents if it comes to that."

"No, I'll do it. If it comes to that. Thanks, Mac."

"Sure." Danny turned to leave. "Danny."

"Yeah Mac."

"When was the last time you got any sleep?"

"Uh, I crashed for a couple of hours while DNA was processing the samples from the woman."

"I thought so. Go home. Get a good night's rest. Clock'll start when you get back in the morning."

Danny nodded and half waved as he headed down the hall.

Mac sat down at his desk. He opened the case reports, spreading the photos on his desk. He had a bad feeling that Danny was going to find nothing. The Clarks weren't local so they couldn't have been clients of Stansfield. And she wasn't old enough to have a son Lucas age so adoption was out of the picture. And if Lucas' father,or mother, was cheating with Stansfield, why kill the boy. He couldn't think of anything that could explain what happened.

"Hey Mac." Stella called from the doorway. "You seen Danny?"

"I sent him home. Ordered him to get some sleep before he completely collapses." Mac scooped up the photos and slid them back into the folders. "What can I do for you?"

Stella laughed. "Actually I was going to suggest that you send Danny home. He's been working non stop and looks like death warmed over. So I guess that item is off the list."

"The list?"

"Then I was going to suggest you do the same. Or at least get something to eat."

"How about Gino's? Tonight's calzone night."

"I could go for that. Don't suppose you're buying?"

"Why not? Give me twenty minutes. I've got something left to do."

"I'll be in the lab."

Mac pulled his Rolodex out. He thumbed to the middle and pulled out a card. The man that gave it to him did so with the wish that Mac would never had to use it. He'd kept it with him when they'd move to New York, and then when he was offered a chance to create the CSI squad. In ten years, he'd never had reason to look at the card. He picked up the phone, hoping that the offer to help was still good.

"Federal Bureau of Investigations." A young woman answered.

"This is Lieutenant Mac Taylor with the New York Police. I need to speak to Jason Gideon."

"One moment."

Mac drummed his fingers on his desk while he waited.

"Special Agent Gideon."

"Gideon. This is Mac Taylor. Chicago, twelve years ago."

"Taylor. Taylor." Mac heard a chuckle. "Young upstart police detective with a knack for forensics. Bit of a doubting thomas."

"Well I think you won me over in the end."

"And you saved my life."

"Actually, that's why I'm calling. You told me if I ever need your help on a case."

"Give me the short version."


	10. a promise made

Danny took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Detective." Mr Clark looked up from the box he was filling.

"Mr Clark." Danny looked around the room. There were bits and pieces of the boy that had lived there still up on the walls. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, I guess. I'm sure it'll hit me later."

Danny nodded. He remembered those feelings all too well. He wanted to say something but knew that there were no words that would give the man before him what he wanted -- his son back.

"Can I help you with that?'

The older man nodded silently. Danny pulled off his jacket, carefully draping it over the back of the desk chair. He picked up an empty box and began to carefully pack up the various photos and awards that were hanging over the desk.

"Five time Spelling Bee Champ." Danny smiled as he picked up a certificate. "Ain't that something."

"Most people would think it was stupid." Mr Clark grinned. "But Lucas couldn't play sports like the other boys. So he worked his mind instead."

"I was smarter than most of the kids I grew up with. Every time I got into trouble my father was always talking about how I was too smart to act like that." Danny laughed to himself. "Only reason I didn't get stuffed in my locker every week was cause I was a tough guy. Anyone tried anything, I'd haul off and smack 'em."

"And now you're a police detective. I imagine your father is very proud."

"Insanely. Most tough guys from my neighborhood end up on the other side of the bars."

Danny pulled down the last photo. "I don't mean to pry." He held the photo up. A younger Lucas sat in a wheelchair, surrounded by nurses.

"Ah, yes." Mr Clark reached for the photo. "Our most trying days.

"Lucas was born with a heart defect. That's why he couldn't play sports. When he was 11, his heart started to give out for good. He needed a transplant but Lucas was a hard match, he is -- was AB negative. Only 1 of the world has the same blood type.

"The first heart was found about a year later but his body rejected it. It was such a miracle to find a heart we never expected to find a second one. But we did. I still remember the day they came and told us. Lucas told the nurses he was going to grow up and travel the world. He was going to visit every country and send them back a postcard so they could see where he'd been. Now he's never --"

Danny flinched as the boy's father choked back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Look, I know that there's nothing that can bring your son back. But I want you to know that we're never going to stop looking for who did this. Lucas deserves justice and one day, no matter how long it takes, he'll get it."

It was all he could think to say. And the best part was, he meant it. He'd wasn't going to rest until the freak that killed the boy that wanted to see the world was found and punished for what he did.


	11. Introducing

Danny pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His head was throbbing. He wasn't sure if it was his lingering cold threatening to return or the frustration of coming up blank after hours of pouring through background reports on his victims. Either way, he wasn't enjoying it. Nor was he enjoying the thought that he might not be able to keep his promise to Lucas' father.

Danny started at a knock on his office door. A tall, skinny kid stood in the door. Danny slipped his glasses back on and gave him a quick survey. He didn't recognize the kid who was dressed in slacks, a plaid button down and a sweater vest that barely avoided clashing. There was a well worn leather book satchel slung over his shoulder. Images of school jocks shoving this kid into gym lockers and head first into swirling toilets came to mind.

"This area is for authorized personnel only."

"I am authorized." The kid pulled a wallet out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. Inside was a federal badge. "I'm Special Agent Spencer Reid."

Danny sighed. "Don't you guys usually make us do the deliveries."

"Deliveries?"

"Yeah, your boss calls my boss. Then my boss comes and tells me to pack it all up and drop it off on your doorstep."

The kid smiled. "I'm not from the field office."

"Okay."

"I'm from the Behavorial Analysis Unit."

"The what?"

"I'm a profiler. My boss sent me here as a favor to your boss. Said you had a hard case on your hands and we might be able to give you a little direction."

"So you aren't here to grab the case?"

"Would that bother you? If I came in, took everything and made it a federal case. Because technically it is." Danny looked at Reid with a puzzled face. "Our expert in research discovered three more cases over the last two years in other states with exactly the same MO. All unsolved."

"It would bother me a little, yeah." Danny admitted. "I have worked my ass off on this case for the last week. Even when I wanted to go home, eat a gallon of chicken soup for this damm head cold I've got and sleep for a month, I stayed here working. I had to be there when that boy's parents identified his body. I promised his father we'd solve this case and find him some justice."

"And if I took the case from you, you'd feel like you failed him." Reid nodded knowingly. "It's a good thing I'm not going to. But I am going to need a lot of help. Sometimes in ways that don't make a lot of sense."

"This case doesn't make a lot of sense." Danny stood up. "Where do you want to start?"

"You still have both bodies?"

"In the morgue."

"Then let's start there."

"Don't you guys usually work in packs?" Danny led the way to the elevators.

"I was in town doing a lecture. Gideon -- my boss -- asked me to make an assessment on whether this was a viable BAU case and call him. The team is standing by to fly up if I say yes, which from the looks of those photos on your desk, I will."

As they stepped into the elevator, Reid could see another question was lingering on the detective's face. "Something else on your mind."

"Yeah. Aren't you a little young to be an FBI agent? I mean, you look like you're sixteen."

"Actually I'm 24. And yes, in truth, I am too young. By about four years."

"You some kind of genius?"

Reid nodded. "I have an IQ of 187. I read 20,000 words a minute. I have an eidetic memory with a 98 percent recall of everything I read and a 95 percent recall of everything I hear. I actually graduated high school at the age of 12 and had three PhDs by the time I was 19."

"So you're the Doogie Howser of criminal investigation?"

"Pretty much."

"Cool."


	12. flying solo

Danny leaned back against the lab table watching with amusement as Agent Doogie conversed with Chad. The guy was like a kid in a candy store. He was honestly fascinated by their whole squad, from the very idea behind it to the results they had produced on the case.

"Amazing." Reid nodded to himself. "I'd heard about these CSI squads but I had no idea."

"It's not that big of a deal."

"But it is. A perfect melding of expert technical skills and detection. It's like a squad full of Sherlock Holmes's." Reid looked up to catch Danny smirking at him. "I sound like some kind of geeky fanboy don't I?"

"Just a little." Danny laughed. The laughing turned to coughing that took Danny several minutes to get under control. "Gawd, I sound like hell. I think I need that chicken soup. You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Good. Let's hit the deli on the corner."

As they cut across the lab, Danny spotted Lindsay scowling at a computer in the adjoining room. "Hang on." He knocked on the open door, startling Lindsay. "Hey Montana."

"Hey Danny. Who's your shadow?"

"Special Agent Reid, FBI." Reid smiled at her.

"Lindsay Monroe." She glanced at the screen, frowning.

"We're going to the deli for some food. Should I bring you something back?"

"Chicken Salad on Rye too much trouble?"

"Nope. Anything else?"

"A computer that's not trying to drive me crazy." Lindsay's frown deepened.

"What's wrong?" Danny walked around to take a look at the screen.

"I'm trying to program a recreation of this shooting that Mac and I processed this morning and I keep getting errors. I hate this program."

Danny looked up at Reid. "You in a hurry?"

"Not if I watch."

"Then grab a stool and watch an expert at work." Danny gently nudged Lindsay out of the way.

Half an hour later, Danny had the recreation up and running and the three of them were sitting at a back table of the deli eating.

"Amazing." Reid nodded excitedly.

"Well we can't take credit for that trick. Some Chelsea computer geeks set it up as a senior project."

"Still, you could spend hours examining stills and not have mentally computed that the angles were completely wrong to match the eyewitness accounts."

"I bet you wouldn't have." Danny chuckled. "Being the mad scientist genius type and all."

"I'm smart, not perfect." Reid's phone chirped. "That's Hotch." He said as he flipped open the phone.

Danny and Lindsay ate while listening to their side of the phone conversation. Danny could tell from the look on Reid's face that he wasn't totally pleased by what he was hearing.

"Of course." Reid was nodding to no one in particular. "I can meet -- okay. Sure. Yeah. I can totally handle it. I'll be waiting for it."

"What's wrong?" Lindsay asked as Reid closed his phone.

"The team has been called to St Louis. Multiple kidnappings with a chance of still finding the victims alive."

"But you aren't leaving?"

'No. Hotch wants me to stay here, try to put together a profile for you. He's sending a courier with a field computer so Garcia can satellite the two of us."

"You seem a little nervous."

"I am." Reid took a long sip of his water. "This is my first solo consult." He glanced at Danny. "Now I'm really going to need that help." He looked at Lindsay. "From both of you."

"I'm game."

"Me too."


	13. the gaunlet is thrown

"Stella Bonasera." Stella shook Reid's hand.

"Thank you for coming."

"No, thank you." Stella smiled at the young man. "We aren't found of unsolved cases, especially when there's a serial killer involved. We tend to not sleep well."

"I know the feeling." Danny watched as Agent Reid took a deep breath and a glance around the table where the whole team was gathered. He didn't really know Spencer Reid but he was certain what he was seeing was fear in the young man's eyes. Danny couldn't blame him. Tossed into a nasty case with people he didn't know in a town he probably didn't know that well either.

"Thank you very much for agreeing to do this." Reid started. "I have no doubts that together we can fill in the missing pieces."

"I'm a little confused." Sheldon cut in. "We're forensics people. Not profilers."

"You are experts at evidence. Finding the pieces, seeing patterns and connections. That's half of profiling. The rest is figuring out the why that causes the killer to do what he or she is doing. The motivation."

"And you can figure that out from the evidence." Flack shot out, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Seems like a bunch of hocus pocus to me."

"Pounding the pavement hasn't gotten us anywhere." Mac said firmly. "If this helps."

"Whatever." Flack leaned back in his chair. "Fire away, Copperfield. Amaze us with your tricks and find our killer."

For a moment, Danny wanted to throw something at Flack. Sure the guy was his friend, but he was acting like an ass. He knew it was stress from the higher uppers constantly demanding results and an end to the thrashing they were getting from the media. But it was no excuse for being rude to Reid, who was just trying to help. Danny open his mouth to say something but Reid cut him off.

"Detective Flack. Are you from around here?"

"Yeah, Queens. Born and raised. So what?"

"I was born in Las Vegas. I actually lived in a casino for a while. My father worked there until the day he died. Both of my uncles still work there. Along with five of my six cousins and my older sister."

"Fascinating."

"I mention this because I want you to understand that gambling is in my blood." Reid leaned across the table towards Flack, his eyes never shifting from Flack, his voice calm and steady. "And I have a bet for you."

"I'm listening."

"I bet that my 'hocus pocus' as you put it will help you solve this case. So here's the deal. You drop the pissy attitude and join the game, listen and learn and do what I tell you. If it doesn't find you your killer I'll give you two thousand dollars. Twenty crisp hundred dollar bills in your hand before I get on the plane to go back home."

"And if it does."

"Well if I remember the pay for an NYPD Detective correctly, two thousand dollars is just a little over what you make in a week. So if I pull off my little magic act, I want a week of your time. And not just any week. I want the first week of next month."

"Why then?"

"Because that week, the BAU will be hosting a training week for law enforcement personnel. Our own Profiling 101. It's a little pet project of my boss. See he feels that detectives and even lab techs can be better at their jobs if they know the basics of what we do. It might help them to figure out the patterns needed to look for the next bit of evidence and even be better interrogators."

"So you want me to come to your little school?"

"Who knows, you might learn something useful?" Reid leaned in a little bit more. "Unless of course the NYPD doesn't have the balls to put his money, or rather time, where his mouth is."

Danny smiled to himself. Reid might be a kid, but he knew what buttons to push. There was a moment of silence, almost as if time stopped.

"Oh, I got the balls." Flack stood, extending his hand. "And you got yourself a bet."

The two shook hands and Flack sat back down and waited to the agent to lead them.

"Now if there are no other issues." Reid looked around the table. No one spoke. "Let's begin with the evidence."


	14. deciphering the clues

"Our media specialist, Agent Jareau, and our technical expert, Miss Garcia, have compiled the case files from the previous murders along with the two new cases."

Danny muffled a snicker as Spencer tried to attach his field laptop to the oversized monitor in the conference room. He could see Spencer getting rattled. Poor guy was trying to come off all cool and calm, but he was clearly on the verge of some serious panic. Reminded Danny of the first time Mac very put him on lead. It was a multiple homicide at a coffee shop. If Aiden hadn't been watching his back --

"I got this." Danny quickly got everything hooked up. "Deep breaths." He whispered to Spencer as he went back to his seat.

"Our first step is establish the key elements of the crime. The signature behavior of our unsub. This and the victimology tell us the most about his profile."

Over the next four hours, they reviewed every file, noting the details of the killings and everything they knew about the victims. When they started to run out of steam, Mac ordered a stack of pizzas. They were devoured quickly.

"So now that we got the pieces, we put together the puzzle right. See what the picture looks like." Danny grabbed the last slice of pizza.

"Exactly." Spencer laughed.

"Okay. Break over." Mac said firmly, ushering them back to the table.

"Chief must have called him again." Danny said under his breath.

"As a matter of fact, he did." Mac replied.

"Then let's get him an answer." Spencer finished off his bottle of water and tossed the empty container in the trash. "Now that we know the details, we look for patterns. What's the same, what's different. And what do the patterns tell us. Starting with the victims."

"There's nothing the same about them." Stella sighed. "Two males, three females. Two victims in New York, one in Dallas, one in Chicago, one in St Louis."

"A college student, a real estate broker," Lindsay added. "A computer programmer, a housewife and a house painter"

"totally different ages, social standing."

"No common towns of residence, no financial connections, no family connections. Nothing."

"Which tells us that the choice of victims is either totally random, or very under the surface."

"How do you figure it out?" Danny asked, growing more and more interested in the whole process. They had done some minor profiling over the years but never so systematically.

"Sometimes we can't. Until we finish the process."

"What's step two?" Sheldon asked.

"The crime. In particular the nature of the crime. Which I believe would fall into your realm of expertise."

"What do you want to know?"

"What do you know about the killings and what does it tell you?"

Sheldon smiled. "Every victim was found with the same organs removed -- the heart, eyes, kidneys, liver -- and the skin on their torsos, arms to the wrist and legs to the ankles removed. The cuts were informed, although the first two victims, especially the first, show signs of hesistancy as if the -- what did you call it --"

"The unsub."

"Right. As if the unsub didn't have a lot of practice in organ removal. But the remaining three victims had cuts that were much more confident."

"There is a gap of several months between the second and third murders." Flack injected. "Maybe the guy was practicing while he was hunting for the next victim."

"Very possible." Spencer nodded. "What other details stand out?"

"The ME from the Clark autopsy believed that the victim was still alive when the organs were removed."

"Pretty sadistic." Lindsay shook her head.

"Yes it is." Spencer pulled the laptop closer and opened a clean document. He began to type notes as he talked. "We have a clear sadist. A planner, who researched his crime, which was complex in nature. Even though the first two killings show signs of hesitation, it seems he found a way to practice and the last three killings were expert and confidently accomplished."

"Are we certain they were done by the same person?" The room went silence, all eyes on Flack. "I'm just saying. Two seem like it's amateur hour and the rest . . ."

"Very good question, detective." Spencer grinned. "I was wondering if someone would think of that."

"So you know the answer."

Spencer nodded. He leaned back in his chair, his face challenging them. Danny grabbed the files, determined to be the one with the answer.

"Here it is." Danny said with a grin. "Local police and Federal investigators withheld the exact nature of the mutilations to eliminate false confessions and copycats."

"And I guess sadistic killers don't usually have partners."

"They tend to be control freaks and partners can be very unpredictable."

"None of this seems like it's telling us anything." Flack said, his voice almost a little disappointed. "We knew the guy was a sicko before you got here. Now you're going to give us the canned white male, ya-da, ya-da."

"Don't forget," Spencer jumped in, "Smart, methodical, researched what he was doing. There were no signs that they were taken from their homes so he watched them. He knew enough to cover his tracks forensically. My teammate Morgan would say that he planned the work and then worked the plan. There's a logic to what he's doing, even if only in his mind. A reason for why he killed those particular people, in those places. The clues are--" Spencer stopped short, his gaze on one of the autopsy photos.

There was a long silence as Spencer laid several photos on the table, staring at them intensely.

"Yo, G-man." Danny nudged him. "You see something."

"Of course." Spencer said, half to himself. "it's right there."


	15. a revelation

"What's right where?" Danny asked impatiently.

"Forensics looks at what's left behind. But this unsub left nothing other than the bodies." Spencer began spreading photos around the table. "The key is in what he didn't leave. Or rather what he took."

"The organs?"

"Yes. Maybe they aren't mere trophies. Maybe they are the key."

"The missing organs are what the guy was after?" Flack whistled to himself. "Okay that's a nasty thought."

"One I suspect you have had before." Mac grimaced at Spencer.

"Unfortunately."

"So what, our guy is a cannibal?" Lindsay suggested.

"Possibly. Except the victimology doesn't fit. Or the frequency and location of the killings."

"Maybe the guy traveled for work. That would explain the location jumping."

"Yeah, but there's still the pattern of dates."

"How so?"

"More regular. Frequent. One of my first cases at the BAU was a series of cannibalistic murders that occurred every 4 weeks without fail. Victims were hacked open, their organs ripped out. At first the locals thought they were bear or wolf attacks."

"Let me guess. They were always during the full moon." Danny howled, getting a paper ball tossed at him.

"Actually yes. The unsub believed he was a werewolf."

"Would a cannibalistic killer be this careful?" Stella examined the crime photos. "Taking the time to select and track the victims. To scatter the victim traits to avoid a clear pattern. Making sure nothing was left behind. Seems like a lot of work if the goal is some very nasty snacks."

"Typically no. Cannibalistic killers tend to be opportunistic, disorganized. This unsub is just the opposite. It doesn't fit, unless the choice of organs has meaning. And or the choice of victims."

"Didn't people way back think the liver was where the soul was." Lindsay piped up. "I remember something about that from an old comparative mythology class in college."

"Kidneys too I think."

"Eyes are the window to the soul."

"But it doesn't explain the skin."

"He removed the skin to get to the rest of it."

"But he wouldn't have to be that careful if he was just getting it out--."

"Hold up a second." Sheldon suddenly interjected. He'd been sitting at the far end of the table, immersed in the photos and reports, not joining in the conversation. Spencer had wondered what was going on in the doctor's mind, but had decided to leave him alone for the time being.

"Dr Hawkes. Did you find something?'

"Yeah." Sheldon nodded excitedly. "Danny's DD5 from talking to Lucas Clark's father." Sheldon picked up the page. "The answer is right there."


	16. confirming a lead

Danny picked up the report.

"Okay, maybe it's the cold pills, but I don't see it."

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at Sheldon.

"Third paragraph." Sheldon picked up the page as Flack jokingly rapped a drum roll on the table top. "Age 12, Lucas had a heart transplant."

"Okay, yeah. But it failed. Kid had to have a second transplant like 18 months later."

"Heart. Liver, Kidneys. Eyes AND Skin are all transplantable." Spencer nodded. "Of course."

"So someone is hacking up folks that got transplants?"

"Not just any someones. If we have the medical records pulled, I'll bet that they all have the same blood type." Spencer shuffled through the pages. "And AB negative is extremely rare --"

"So it's a safe assumption that if they have the same blood type, they had the same organ donor."

"Let's confirm the transplants and blood type." Mac cut in. "Make sure we aren't moving on a bad guess."

Stella quickly split up the case files and they began making calls.

An hour later, Danny set a cup of coffee next to Spencer's laptop. "You want a donut or a bagel?"

"Are there any jelly filled?" Spencer dumped several packets of sugar and cream into his coffee before taking a long swig.

Danny flipped open the box. "Lemon or raspberry?"

"ummm. Lemon I guess."

Danny grabbed a napkin out of the bag and pulled out the donut. "Hell, take one of each. Sugar rush comes in handy." He set both donuts next to the coffee before grabbing one for himself. "So were we right?"

"Still waiting on Landes."

"Wait no more." Lindsay walked in. "Oh, donuts. Better be a couple of cake for me."

"Would I let you down, Montana." Danny slid the box over with a grin.

Lindsay handed Spencer her notes with one hand as she grabbed a donut with the other. "Derek Landes is AB negative and 6 years ago he had both corneas replaced."

"Let me guess." Spencer grinned. "In March."

"uh huh." Lindsay nodded as she popped the last bite in her mouth and reached for a cup of take out coffee. "This stuff sucks." She grimaced as she grabbed several packets of sugar.

"There's a work request in for the coffee maker in the breakroom." Mac flipped his phone shut as he walked in. "But it is Saturday night so take what you can get." Mac helped himself to coffee and a bagel before sitting down. "The chief is mildly pleased with the latest report."

"Mildly?"

"He would prefer a report of suspect in custody."

"Well that goes without saying." Danny laughed half heartedly before breaking out in a coughing fit. He pulled a bottle of cough syrup out of a second bag and took a gulp.

"To recap for those just joining us." Spencer said as everyone sat back down. "Lucas Clark, Rachel Morgan, Katherine Ishikawa and Derek Landes are all AB negative and all received organ transplants in March of 2000."

"Lisa Stansfield was A positive." Stella checked her notes. "However, she was in a car accident at that same time and suffered severe burns on her arms, legs and torso that required grafts."

"And skin grafts can come from any available source." Sheldon added. "Which means that she's still a likely fit."

"All we need now is to know who the donor was."

Spencer's laptop began beeping. He clicked a button and a webcam screen came up. On the screen was a jovial blonde in cat eye glasses.

"Penelope Garcia, goddess of information at your service." She said with a grin.

"Garcia. Can you link me to JJ?"

"Sure sweetheart. Give me a few minutes."

Moments later, another screen popped up. "Spence, how goes the case?"

"Complicated and nasty."

"Sounds about right." JJ laughed. "You getting any help from the locals or are they too worried about losing the collar."

Spencer blushed slightly. JJ had no way of knowing that the locals were actually in the room and heard her comment. He glanced up at the group around the table but no one seemed bothered by the comment.

"They are more concerned with catching the guy than getting any glory. And they have proven to be more than capable."

"Good. So what can I assist you with?"

"Do you have any contacts at UNOS?"

"I know a guy that might know a guy. What do you need?"

Spencer quickly filled JJ in. She signed off, promising to call him the minute she knew something.

"So now we wait."


	17. two steps back

"Thanks JJ."

Spencer flipped his phone shut with a sigh. They were so close.

"So, what's the scoop?" Danny said as Spencer walked into the office. They had moved everything there after Mac, Lindsay and Flack were forced to handle another case. Stella had been called out minutes later, leaving Spencer, Danny and Sheldon to handle the last few details. Only it wasn't the piece of cake they had believed it to be.

"There was a problem." Spencer said glumly. "UNOS had a huge computer meltdown about two years ago. Some hacker broke in and dropped a virus in the system. Some kind of prank. They had the waiting list on a backup from the day before but the resolved case files weren't restorable without hand entering them from the paper forms. They figured why bother back tracking the details when they had the data summaries."

"So the only way to find out who the mystery donor is . . ."

"Is to go through all the case files for the year looking for the ones for our victims." Spencer shook his head. "According to JJ, her contact says there were over seventeen thousand deceased donor transplants in 2000."

"That could take days."

"Yep." Spencer dropped down on the worn out couch. "You mind sharing?" He nodded at the bottle of aspirin Danny was opening. Danny handed him the bottle. Spencer shook out two tablets and swallowed them dry.

"There has to be a way to find the source." Sheldon paced the floor. "What about going back to the hospitals?"

"Which ones? The donor could be from anywhere in the country."

"Or even Canada. Cross border donations are not out of the question. Better that than wasting a viable organ that had no recipient match at that time."

"With only one percent of the population matching the blood type, it's not a big shock that the recipents weren't all American."

"It's worth a shot though." Danny suggested. "I mean how many hospitals are there that can remove organs. They have to be certified for it, right? Couldn't your Agent Jarod?

"Jareau."

"Sorry. Jareau, Couldn't she contact them, have them check their records."

"It would still take time. Hospitals put current patients first. Especially on a weekend."

"But it's something."

"Yeah." Spencer picked up his phone and hit the speed dial for JJ. The conversation was quick but Spencer didn't seem hopeful.

"Something is bothering me." Sheldon said suddenly. "We found the eyes, skin, heart, liver and one kidney."

"But both were missing from our victims." Danny made the connection.

"Which means that there's another victim out there."


	18. a bit of bribery

"I was on my way home." Garcia pouted.

"Please, Garcia. We need help. There's a serial killer how there and one remaining potential victim."

"Okay, but I want a couple of things."

"You are going to blackmail me."

"If you want me to stay way past the end of my shift, hell yeah."

"Okay. What will it take?"

"A t-shirt."

"You want a shirt?"

"Yeah. Something with New York on it. Like the Empire State Building."

"Okay." Spencer shook his head, amused. He was used to Penelope and her odd tastes. "Anything else?"

"Dinner with that hot cop."

"Which one was the hot one?"

"Brown hair, glasses, over the top New York accent."

"Detective Messer. You want me to get you dinner with Danny Messer."

"Yep."

Danny laughed.

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Garcia."

Spencer muted the microphone. "You don't have to. She's just being funny."

"No, I want to." Danny turned the microphone on. "You and me, dinner, maybe dancing."

"For real?"

"On my mother." Danny held his hand up in a solemn vow. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Okay, then. Let's get busy." They could hear the clicking of keys. "I suggest a two prong approach. One set of searches to find the unsub. The other to find the last victim.

"I'm programming a spider to search the combined newspaper databases for references to organ transplants during the time in question. It's a long shot, but something could come out.

A second spider will search for references to accidents, suicides or murders during that time."

"Excellent. Here's hoping a long shot pays off."

Spencer picked up his phone. "Meanwhile." He said as he pushed a number. "JJ, Spence. Change of plans. We are going about this the wrong way. We need to focus our hospital search on the missing kidney. Find the victim before the unsub does."

Moments later, Spencer hung up his phone. "Now we wait."

"What are the chances are our guy had no leads on the last victim and just gave up"

"He's gone to this much trouble, so I'd have to say that you could win the lotto first."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."


	19. an old case resurfaces

Danny jumped at the sound of a phone ringing. He had dozed off while scanning the results of his latest news search.

"Reid." He could hear Spencer talking in the hall. A moment later he returned to the office.

"You look happy."

"Garcia thinks she might have found something."

"Alleluia." Danny laughed.

They found Mac and Lindsay in the trace lab. A couple of quick phone calls and Stella, Sheldon and Flack joined them in the conference room.

"You have a lead?"

"Possibly." Spencer tapped a couple of keys and a newspaper article filled the wall screen.

"Garcia pulled this from a newspaper archive. Seems it was a big deal at the time."

"Quick version," Danny tried to hold back a grin, "gives us a hit and run, seriously drunk car driver versus a stupid kid on a motorbike.

"Damien Stokes, 22, was out for a spin on a friend's bike -- with no helmet on. DUI comes around a bend, smashes right into him. Stokes was left in a coma. A little less than a year later, his parents filed to have him pulled off life support, citing test results that their son was brain dead."

There was a strained moment of silence.

"Is there something I should know about." Spencer glanced around the room.

"My older brother was beaten into a coma." Danny said as nonchalantly as he could. "Two weeks later he died of a blood clot induced stroke. Never woke up."

"I'm sorry."

"Shit happens." Danny sighed. "So. Here's the really interesting part of the story. Damien had a twin brother. Russell. When the parents announced they were going to pull Damien from life support, Russell filed a law suit trying to get custody of his brother. Claims his brother was still alive and would wake up if they just gave him more time."

"Russell lost the suit and his brother was pulled from the machines. But not until after the doctors began harvesting his organs."

"Wait a second. They took out his organs while he was still alive." Lindsay grimaced.

"Keeps the organs viable."

"And fits the crime."

Spencer nodded. "Indeed. The belief that his brother was still alive would explain why he harvested the organs before killing the victims."

"Quid pro quo."

"Gross is more like it."

"Check this out." Sheldon jumped in. "Lisa Stansfield's accident was just outside of Vegas. She was taken to the same hospital where Damien Stokes was in the critical care unit."

"That explains why they could use Damien's skin for Lisa's grafts."

"It's not proof positive."

"No, Mac, it's not." Danny shot back. "But we ain't going to get that."

"I know. Which is why we should follow what leads we have. So we need to find Russell Stokes."

Spencer's phone beeped. "Garcia was already tracking him." He flipped open the phone. Moments later, his face fell.

"No way." Danny shook his head.

"Russell Stokes died in a car crash three years ago."

"Son of a b----"

"We'll figure it out." Mac laid a gentle hand on Danny's shoulder. "We still have the victim."


	20. call to arms

Danny gave a little cheer, scoped up the pages and jogged down the hall.

He knocked on the door and waited for Mac to wave him inside.

"Stop the presses." Danny grinned.

"What have you got?"

"Police report from the Stokes crash. Penelope got it for me."

"Penelope?"

"My new girlfriend. Smart, funny and great for getting information."

"Agent Reid's computer guru." Mac laughed. "And what about the crash is making you so happy."

"This part." Danny pointed to a paragraph. "Says that Stokes body was burned to a crisp. They got his name from the rental agreement for the car. That and him never turning up at home."

"So you're thinking that Stokes faked his own death before starting his killing spree."

"It's possible. But where do we go? How do we find him?"

Spencer stuck his head in the office. "I've got a lead on our missing kidney."

"Do tell."

"JJ called. The transplant coordinator at Cedars Sinai in Los Angeles has an AB neg kidney transplant just two days after the Stokes family signed to cut off support on Damien. She pulled the file and the courier sign off record shows that the kidney was delivered by a Michael Simmons. Trinity General, the hospital Damien was sent to after the accident, confirmed that there was a Michael Simmons on their surgerical team at the same time. And he was a certified organ courier."

"So our guy is in LA?"

"Nope. Boston." Spencer laid a photo on the desk. "His name is Edward Bennett. He's a professor of American Literature at the University of Massachusetts.

"The Boston office has him under surveillance. They aren't going to make a move unless Bennett is in jeopardy."

"So they are just going to watch and wait. See if Stokes shows up."

"Until we get there."

"We?"

"Boston has declared no claim on the collar. They say that New York CSI did the heavy work so they are happy to go down as an "with assistance by". They are requesting that the lead investigators -- being you and Mac -- join them to finish things off. And as the expert on the profile, I have been requested also. They are waiting for us to get there and then we are going to flush Stokes out."

Danny looked at Mac.

"Looks like we're going to Boston."


	21. watching and waiting

"Has the victim been alerted to the situation?"

Agent Forrester shook his head. "There were concerns that Dr Bennett would blow things if he knew."

"Guy's got a wife, two kids and a baby on the way." Danny leaned over the seat to hand a Mac a page from the dossier. "If I knew that I might have a freak stalking me, I'd run for the hills. Head for this lake house they've got."

"And right into the perfect place for a kidnapping." Mac nodded.

"All of our agents have age enhanced photos of Russell Stokes, with a variant spread for weight loss and gain, change in hair color, facial hair."

"Standard protocol. But what about plastic surgery."

"The money Stokes received from his parents life insurance policy was barely enough to fund an operation like this. The amount of surgery needed to change his appearance would have depleted it."

"Besides." Spencer added, snapping his phone shut. "If no one is really looking for you, it's overkill. Especially if you are smart enough to blend in."

"You have an idea?"

"I was just talking to Gideon. Wanted to run a thought by him before I brought it up."

"And?"

"He agrees that Stokes likely did NOT resort to surgery, but probably has changed his hair color, perhaps contacts on the eyes, added a beard. And he's likely finding a way to get close to the victims without them paying attention to him. "

"Such as?"

"St Louis police questioned the neighbors after Rachel Morgan was killed, no one could give a solid description but the mention of a landscaper came up several times. Man in his late 20s, brown hair, brown eyes, fit body. One woman said he was friendly, attentive to details and gave a fair price on all his work. The whole street used him to mow their grass, trim hedges, and so on."

"And he probably turned up a couple of weeks before she disappeared."

"Two months actually. A week before the murder he told one of the neighbors that his father had a heart attack and he was going out of town. He never came back. Chicago went to talk to Jason Parnell last night. He was Derek Landes partner. Parnell recognized a photograph of Stokes, this time with Blonde Hair and his real green eyes, plus a beard as a Neil Scott. They hired Scott as a painter. Said he was a great worker who just vanished one day. Then about two days later, Landes was killed."

"So this guy will find a way to not stand out. Get close, watch Bennett."

"It also means he could already be here. He may have known where Bennett was even before he killed Lucas Clark and Lisa Stansfield. Came here, got himself a vantage point and is just waiting for the perfect moment to strike."

"So what now?"

"We need to tell Bennett what is going on." Spencer said, his eyes looking out at the building where Bennett was teaching his sophomore class on Pre Civil War Literature. "And we need to get close to him without Stokes spotting us."

"Any ideas?"

Spencer turned to Danny. "Actually yes."


	22. setting the stage

"I just ask Professor Bennett for a registration approval form and bring it back on Monday?" Spencer asked.

"Yep." The redhead grinned at him. "Was there anything else?"

"No. Thank you."

The girl scrawled something on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "If you think of anything else."

Spencer looked at the paper. "Actually." He stuttered for a moment. He glanced back at Danny.

Danny looked up from the brochure he was reading. He had no idea what the kid was up to but he was ready to get out of there. The whole place gave him flashbacks of getting sent to the principal's office in grade school. As a child, Danny usually wasn't the one to start trouble. But he always finished it. At least until his father gave him a guilt trip extreme about disappointing his mother by not using his brains for something good. He smiled as he remembered his father's reaction when he pointed out that his mother had been dead for two years. "That doesn't mean she's not watching you." He'd said.

Spencer turned back to the girl who gave him an odd look.

"I'm sure you're very nice. And you are very pretty. It's just . . ."

"I get it." She said, glancing at Danny who was standing in the hall grinning at them. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you on Monday with your forms."

"yeah. Monday."

"What was that all about?" Danny dumped the brochure on the counter and followed Spencer outside.

"I got the information. And then she gave me her phone number."

"You gonna call her?"

"No. She's years younger than me and I kind of have a girlfriend."

"Kind of?"

"She lives in Los Angeles."

"I see. What was that other stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"She was looking at me all funny."

"I think she thought you were my boyfriend."

Danny laughed. "At least you got good taste. So you think this plan is gonna work."

"It should. Class registration starts on Monday and today's the last day to pick up paperwork. No professor is going to be surprised by a student trying to get into a class at the last minute. It should give me the opportunity to get Bennett alone in his office to explain to him what's going on."

They stopped at a van. An agent was waiting for them.

He handed Spencer a small object the size and shape of a PDA.

"This will pick up any radio signal in the room. That way you'll know if he's listening."

He handed each of them another object, the size of a car alarm trigger.

"This is a panic button. Office hours are almost over and the building is getting pretty quiet. The subject could try to make a move. If he does, this will bring us all in."

"Okay, loverboy." Danny laughed. "Let's do this."


	23. Curtain up

"Detective Messer." An officer in plain clothes with a german shepard on a lease walked up. "I'm Doug Kendris. This is Rocky."

"May I?"

Kendris nodded.

"Hey fellow." Danny bent down to pet the dog. "You ready to do some undercover work?"

The dog sniffed Danny's hand a couple of times then stood still.

"I guess that means he gets that I'm friendly." Danny smiled.

Mac scanned the area around the building. "No sign of Stokes. He could be inside." He turned to Spencer who, with Danny's advice, was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a Boston Celtics t-shirt. The outfit made the agent look about 10 years younger. And no one would have a clue that he had a bullet proof vest on. Or a gun strapped to his ankle.

"Agreed. If I see anyone fitting the description, I'll alert the team." Spencer carefully packed his standard gun, the bug checker and a secure line radio in the beaten up satchel he used as a day bag. He added a pair of notebooks and a thick paperback for effect.

"Well?" Spencer looked at Danny.

"You look like a 14 year old geek." Danny laughed.

"Perfect." Spencer looked at his watch. "it's time."

The team nodded and headed for their places. Danny, Officer Kendris and Rocky jogged out into the grassy yard in front of the building and began to play frisbee.

A few minutes later, the professor walked out of the building.

"Professor." A male voice called out to him. "Professor Bennett."

Bennett stopped and turned to greet the young man who jogged up out of breathe.

"I needed to talk to you, sir."

"I'm sorry but my office hours are over. Come back on Monday."

"I'm not in your class sir."

Bennett looked at him confused.

"Not this semester. I took it last year."

"I don't remember you, Mr?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid. I sat in the third row." Spencer smirked. "A couple of the guys from the lacrosse team called me Hermione because I was always raising my hand when you asked a question."

Bennett stared at him for a moment. "oh yes, I do remember you."

"I wanted to take your summer seminar on colonial literature but the registars office said I needed an approval form from you." Spencer said apologetically. "If there's still space."

"As a matter of fact, I have one space still open." Bennett smiled as he turned to go back into the building, Spencer following.

Danny watched them go into the building. "Dang, he's good." He laughed.

Spencer followed Bennett to his office. It was clean and organized. Bennett went straight to the desk and picked up a file folder. "I just need your ID number, Mr Reid."

Spencer nudged the door closed. "I'm sorry for lying to you Mr Bennett. I'm not a student." He pulled out is ID and badge and laid them on the desk. "I'm an agent with the FBI and your life may be in danger."


	24. Rising action

Danny dove to catch the frisbee, nearing crashing into a pair of very attractive co-eds.

"Sorry, ladies." He smiled at them. The blonde picked up the frisbee at her feet and handed it to him.

"Thank you."

Danny turned, tossing the frisbee across the yard. Rocky ran for it.

"He's cute." Danny could hear the girls talking as they walked away.

"I think I saw him at the Lam house."

"Too bad. I wouldn't asked him to the party."

Danny shook his head as he jumped for the frisbee Kendris lobed at him.

They continued playing for several minutes. No one in the quad was their suspect and no one, other than the two sorority girls, paid them any notice. They were two college guys and a dog enjoying a beautiful afternoon. Which was exactly what they wanted. That and Stokes.

"Anything?" Mac's voice asked in Danny's ear. Danny bent down like he was retrying his shoe.

"Nothing." He replied into the microphone invisibly clipped just inside the collar of his shirt.

"Let's get a check around the building."

"Sure."

Danny stood, jerking his head to the side. Kendris, catching the signal, over threw the frisbee so it landed along the side of the building.

"I got it." Danny yelled, for the benefit of the clueless students sitting around the quad. He jogged across the grass, grabbed the frisbee and then casually two stepped to get a peek behind the building.

"Only new thing back here is a maintenance truck."

"Copy. Any sign of Dr Reid?"

"Still inside. Can't say I want to be in his shoes."

Danny drew back his arm to toss the frisbee when a thought entered his mind. "Mac."

"Danny."

"Can we get a list of all the maintenance staff and when they were hired?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking when I was at school the janitors and repair guys were everywhere but no one really paid attention to them."

"Check it out."

"What about your talk on instincts and evidence?"

"Possible jeopardy beats lack of evidence. Just do it quietly."

"Look for men's room kind of thing?"

"Exactly."

"I'm on it."

Danny slipped into the building, glancing down the hall,. Without warning, he heard a loud crash.


	25. the end arrives

"What about my family?"

"Fortunately they are of no concern to Stokes. He only wants you." Spencer tried to sound reassuring but he knew nothing he said was going to shake the fear and dread Bennett was feeling.

"I'm just not sure."

"Professor Bennett. I know you are scared and worried. I've been there. Being an FBI agent doesn't erase the terror you feel when a crazed man has a rifle pointed at you, or someone has a knife to your throat.

"Stokes only wants you. The first chance he has to grab you, he will. Sending your family up your lake house will keep them out of harm's way while we set up a perfect chance and grab Stokes when he takes it."

"I'm probably insane." Bennett half heartedly smiled, "But I actually feel like I can trust you."

"You can."

"Then let's do this."

Spencer unlocked the door and the two started down the hall. They would walk together, chatting about class details, until they reached the professor's car. A team was already waiting to follow Bennett to his home at a distance.

"We have people outside. They will follow us at a distance until --"

As they turned a corner, something slammed into Spencer, knocking him into the wall. There was a crash as a framed photo was knocked off the wall.

"Get outside. NOW!" He yelled at Bennett as he ducked a swing from his attacker. Spencer didn't look to ensure that Bennett had run.

Stokes charged like a wild animal. Spencer lost his balance and hit the ground hard, his head reeling from the force. He saw a flash of light as Stokes arm came down. He reacted the only way he could think of, thrusting up with his knee while jabbing at Stokes face with his free hand. The knife, aimed at his chest, sliced his upper arm instead.

The pain momentarily energized him and Spencer managed to shove Stokes off of him, knocking him into the far wall. He got to his knees and went for his gun and the panic button. Before he could reach them, Stokes grabbed his leg, pulling him off balance. He felt a weight as Stokes pinned him down.

He was trapped.


	26. case closed

Danny nearly collided with a very panicked Bennett.

"He's there." Bennett half yelled, pointing down the hall. "Up the stairs."

"Go." Danny pushed him outside. He reached in his pocket, depressing the alarm to call in the team. He pulled out his gun as he took the stairs two at a time. He could hear the sounds of a fight.

Danny reached the landing and turned the corner.

Spencer was pinned to the ground, helpless. Stokes' arm raised, a knife in his hand.

"Russell Stokes." Danny called out, raising his gun. "Police. Put down the weapon and back off."

Danny fired the gun as Stokes moved to stab Spencer in the back. The bullet entered his shoulder, the pain causing him to drop the knife.

Moments later, Danny had Stokes on the ground and cuffed.

"I need EMS." He yelled to the approaching footsteps as he knelt down by Spencer. "You okay, Doogie."

"I'm okay." Spencer mumbled. A nasty red mark was forming on his head and his shirt sleeve was soaked with blood from the arm gash.

Danny gently helped Spencer sit up. He carefully wrapped his hand around the gash, using the pressure to slow down the blood.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks."


	27. epilogue

"Thanks for your help, Doc."

"It was my pleasure." Spencer shook Danny's outstretched hand. "Thank you for saving my life."

"Just part of the job."

"Still I owe you one."

"You already helped me."

"No, I was doing my boss a favor and helping your boss." Spencer grinned. "So I still owe you for helping me."

"You wanna play it that way, there is something you could do for me."

"Name it."

"This class thing."

"You want to come also."

"Yeah."

"It requires a supervisor's request. If Mac sends it, I promise it will be approved."

"Cool. Looks like your flight is ready to go."

"I'll see you in Virginia."

Danny watched Spencer board the private plane sent to take him back to Quantico.

"You really want to go to that class." Flack asked as they walked out of the terminal. "Learn all that psycho babble stuff."

"Worked pretty well this time."

"Whatever."

"Besides I can't let you go have all the fun."


End file.
